Watch Over You
by Shannon411
Summary: Carter was just your average, run-of-the-mill hunter- lonely, sarcastic, and fierce, until a strange yet alluring man takes an interest in her and she learns that he is not only an angel, he's her guardian angel, and he sees past the hard outer exterior she's taken so long to build up. Cory is determined to protect her, but will it become something more?
1. All Alone

My brother died last week.

We were on a hunt. I can't remember most of it; I don't _want _to remember. But what I do remember, I won't say. It was bloody though. I hope he didn't feel too much pain. It should've been me, I know that much. I'm not being self-sacrificing when I say that; it _literally _should've been me. But thanks to my incredible luck I was spared. Fantastic.

I guess I'm the last one left, then. The rest of my family died when I was little. My uncle took my brother and me in, taught us how to hunt, but he's long gone now. Hunting accident. But I guess that's how all of us go in the end. Part of the job description. And now I'm alone.

Right now I'm just evacuating, trying to put as much distance between me and the place my brother died before the _thing_ can catch up. Basically I'm just delaying the inevitable. It was a demon that killed him, if you were wondering.

That's kinda what I do for a living: hunt and kill the things that go bump in the night, save as many people as I can before I hit the head. Yep, hunt and kill. Basically my whole life in a nutshell.

Around this time on an average day (or at least as 'average' as my days can get) my brother and I would be in a bar having a celebratory drink and reveling in the glory of our latest kill, but now I'm checking into a rundown hotel in a rundown town in a rundown city.

"Pretty little thing like you shouldn't be walking around a town like this alone," The innkeeper said as he handed me the key to my room.

"I'll manage," I replied without meeting his gaze. Not that his eyes were on my face, anyways.

"When my shift ends I could buy you a drink at the bar?" He offered.

"Not in the mood, buddy," I muttered and dragged myself up the stairs and to my room, throwing my bag on the floor and sprawled out on the bed that immediately sagged underneath me. I scanned the contents of the room. There was a prehistoric TV set, a dirty old microwave that I didn't dare touch, and a moth-eaten chair that I doubted would hold as much as the weight of a small child. Wow. This place takes the cake.

I couldn't close my eyes without seeing red and knew I was headed for another restless night. I couldn't take much more of this alone.

* * *

I watched with a somber expression as the human under my charge finally slipped into sleep. I wanted desperately to help in some way but I was strictly forbidden from directly interacting with humans.

"Amphinithon, are you watching that girl again?" My brother, Barquiel, asked.

"I _am_ a guardian angel," I answered without looking up. I heard him sigh and I turned to him with an earnest expression. "I need to help her," I insisted. His expression hardened.

"You know the rules brother. We haven't been permitted to interact with humans since—"

"The fall, yes, I know. But that was long ago, and everything's back to how it should be," I argued.

"Precisely. And we don't want things to get that way again." His tone of voice told me that he was finished talking about it.

"Well then," I muttered under my breath, "I'll just have to go convince someone to allow me to." And with a flutter of wings I materialized in front of the archangel Bathin.

"Brother. What is it you require?" He asks. I bow my head briefly and look back up to my superior.

"It is my human charge. I find it tedious trying to watch over her from afar. I need your permission if I am to find a more convenient way to keep her safe." Bathin frowned and adopts a thoughtful expression.

"You know our orders," He said, albeit halfheartedly, but I didn't give up.

"Brother, I beg of you," That gets his attention; angels rarely beg, "let me do this. It is who I am; I need to guard the human. Please," I hate groveling but I was determined to do this.

"Fine," Bathin relented, and I disappear onto Earth full of excitement and exhilaration for the task ahead.

* * *

I dragged myself down the street. What a wonderful day so far; I attempted (not really) to make myself presentable, was flirted with a rapey bellboy, and tripped down the stairs… twice.

Fan-freaking-tastic.

"Screw health," I said to no one as I lazily walked toward the hot dog stand. At least I could start off my day with some sort of reward.

I walked down the street, still feeling groggy. I often had to get up early for hunts and all but I never really was much of a morning person.

I approached the stand and ordered my meal.

"Rise and shine," I heard an unfamiliar voice say from behind me.

"Huh?" I said as I turned around. I saw a man looking at me with a hopeful expression. He had piercing blue-green eyes and very fair skin.

"Pardon me, that is still the term," He questioned, combing his white-blonde hair out of his face with his fingers.

"Um- I-" I started, raising my hand to shield my eyes from the sun.

"Would you like to sit," he interrupted, gesturing towards a row of tables.

"Um- sure. I guess," who did this guy think he was? 'that is still the term'? Has he been living under a rock?

He pulled out a seat and I sat down, finally I began to become more awake. "So who are you, anyway?"I asked.

"I'm Amphinithon, but you can call me Corbin," he said with a slight nervous tone in his voice,

"Arighty then, Cory it is," I said, confused.

As I spoke, Amphin-uh- Cory was staring at me looking very confused.

"What are those things," Cory asked.

"What _things_," I responded.

"Those things on your face," he replied, "The dots. What are they?"

"Do you mean freckles," I asked. Maybe he really had been living under a rock. Or high.

Or both.

"Well I would assume so," he said in a proper sort of voice, still staring intently at my face, "considering your immediate response was 'freckles' then I could only be inclined to believe that those small dots on your face are, indeed freckles."

Yep. He's high.

"My mom used to call them 'angel kisses' when we were little," why was I telling this guy my life story? I have no clue.

I looked at the man with wonder and honestly, a bit of amusement. In return, he blushed and took a bite of his hot dog.

"What are these things," he asked, holding up his hot dog and examining it closely. Before I could respond, he simply stated "I must go," and left.

I just looked at him in amusement as he walked away, looking up at the sky and watching the birds.


	2. Rundown

I walked into the hotel lobby. It was um... Alright. I guess I had seen worse. I looked around and was not very impressed. Two chairs with holes in them, both of which seemed to be having trouble holding up their own weight. In between the chairs was a small wooden coffee table. Hanging up on the wall was a magazine rack with two issues, both dated in 2006. There was not much else besides the dirty burgundy carpeting and a small desk with an old metal bell on it. I'm sure I had seen worse. I Mean- I had only been a guardian angel for a couple thousand years but I'm sure somewhere along the way I had seen a hotel in a worse condition.

I walked over to the desk and carefully rang the bell. A man with a bellman suit walked out from a room behind the desk in which I could only assume was a worker's lounge of some sort. This didn't seem like a place that had enough business to have a room for paperwork and such. The man approached me with a fake-looking smile plastered on his face. He cleared his throat, "Can I help you?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.  
"Yes," I responded, "I would like a room please." Without a word the man slid a book in front of me and gave me a pen. I looked at him confused.  
"Write your name please," he said, pausing for a few seconds before managing the word 'please'. I just stared at the paper with a troubled look.  
"Ahem, sir," the man said uncomfortably. I signed my name I'm the neatest of handwriting I could manage considering I hadn't written a single word in several millennia. 'Amphinithon' I wrote. The man just looked at me skeptically.  
After several seconds of writing my name, I noticed that I was the only one in the book that did not sign my name in cursive. Oops.  
As the bellman grabbed my key from somewhere under his desk, I noticed the name written directly above mine in small, perfect letters.  
'Carson'.

* * *

I ruffled though the pages of newsprint. "No... No... No," I said to myself while scouring the newspapers from the past several days. I finished skimming the past 3 weeks worth of papers and pushed the pile aside.

That's when I heard the knock on the door.


	3. Friends

I approached the door cautiously. I never really had company- now that I think about it. The only friends I really have are hunters and they aren't much of the visiting, tea-party type. I didn't really have _friends..._A little depressing, don't you think? I guess I thought so too, back then.

I opened the door warily. The first thing I saw was a pair of bright green eyes, filled with wonder, that stood out against fair skin. "Cory, hey," I said, a little confused.

"Hello," he said with a sweet smile, "may I come in?" I have to admit, although he was a little (completely) strange, he is quite the gentlemen.

"Um, sure?" I responded, opening the door wider.

"I just checked in down the hall," he smiled, eyes full of wonder, "I- I saw you earlier with a stack of… newspapers?"

"Oh, yea, that," great response, Carson, way to go, "I'm a…um," Excuse, excuse, excuse, I thought to myself.

"I'm a detective for the F.B.I.," I said, "I like to look into odd occurrences; murders, anything along those lines."

Yea, because federal detectives aren't assigned cases, they look for them in the newspaper… and they most certainly proclaim their relation to the F.B.I. to complete strangers. Again- way to go, Carson.

Cory looked at me skeptically as if he knew I was lying .

"Oh," he said, widening his eyes, "Well may I help?"

"Sure, I guess," I answered, and sat back down in the partially-wrecked wooden chair. He leaned over my shoulder and examined the papers.

He leaned over to grab one of the papers and stopped mid-way. "May I?" He asked politely.

"Oh, go right ahead," I said, a bit surprised at his manners.

He scooped up the article. "Here," he said, furrowing his eyebrows, "it seems like exactly what you're looking for."

"Really," I asked curiously, "where?"

"Um, h-here," he said, tilting the page so that I could see the date. Two weeks ago.

He began pacing around the room. "It says here that there is a string of murders, four people so far," he stopped pacing for a moment, I assume that he was gathering his thoughts. His voice wavered a bit when reading the words 'four people', "each victim has a different letter carved into their doors, and each were killed in their own homes. The police are calling it the 'alphabet killer' because he seems to be going in alphabetical order, from 'A' to 'B' and so on. They believe that he will proceed with 26 kills for all 26 letters," the looked at the page with a bit of disgust.

"Alright, sounds like a case," I responded with pleasure," I'll get right on that this afternoon."

Before I got a chance to respond, Cory's eyes widened and put on a big smile, "I'll grab my coat," and with that, he was gone.

I didn't know that then, but I had just obtained a new partner, and this case was just the beginning.

_I guess I_ do_ have a friend_, I thought to myself as I saw him come in with a big grin on his face.


End file.
